The Distant Machine
October 14 I am signing the requisition form for the new fluorescent tubes in the Silent Ward, the ink still wet on the page as I press my pen to the paper, the weight of the instrument feeling heavier than it should in my hand. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, a senior corrections officer with nineteen years of service behind me, and I am writing this in the logbook because the physical...
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